


if but briefly and imperfectly

by Guzmanasol



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Open to Interpretation, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 20:01:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13465536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guzmanasol/pseuds/Guzmanasol
Summary: You don't have to speak the same language to understand each other, and Jakub and Kuzy understand each other pretty well.





	if but briefly and imperfectly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fourthlinewinger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fourthlinewinger/gifts).



> Happy Caps Flash Exchange, FourthLineWinger! 
> 
> title comes from this Ken Liu quote "And yet, whatever has been lost in translation in the long journey of my thoughts through the maze of civilization to your mind, I think you do understand me, and you think you do understand me. Our minds managed to touch, if but briefly and imperfectly."
> 
> AFAIK, there is no mechanical bull in the AAC, but the Iowa Wild tweeted about the absence of one at a recent game of theirs and I had /ideas/

“You know, he’d probably be willing to go down on someone, but no sane woman would let him near her with that facial hair-- he looks like a serial killer,” is what Jakub decides Kuzy’s mumbles mean as his linemate gestures towards Benn over on the Stars bench. Realistically, he knows it’s more likely a comment on that turnover in the second or just profanity directed at the man that pulled the Stars even with the Caps in the middle of a chippy third, but he likes his translation better. What Kuzy is saying isn’t really important though, the tone alone enough to buoy Jakub’s mood enough to focus on make the most of their next shift. They don’t do it immediately, but Kuzy scores on the one after, puck going in at an angle that probably should’ve had it pinging off the post instead. Jakub doesn’t question it and takes a few strides to get over to Kuzy because yelling “holy shit you’re lucky” and a hug are an essential part of a good celly. 

Press after is kind of fun, mostly because it’s mercifully quick in Dallas and a win always makes press easier to do, even if it is one they barely pulled off. They’re not flying out immediately after, so half the team starts making noise about going out. Burkie is petitioning for some honky-tonk place and Nicky is too busy trying to convince Ovi not to drag him along to explain to Jakub what a honky-tonk actually is, and half of the d-corp is dead on their feet and refusing to do anything except go back to the hotel, eat, and sleep until they absolutely have to get up. Carly might actually be asleep already. Jakub is trying to psyche himself up for going out with Burkie and Willy and hoping that the honky-tonk will be something fun when Kuzy wiggles past the clump of people debating the merits of honky-tonks vs normal bars and throws an arm around him. 

“Eat with me?,” and Jakub grins and doesn’t bother to actually say yes. He’s never going to turn down time with Kuzy and he knows this-- especially when it will save him from his teammates and their questionable taste in drinking establishments (really, if Andre wants to go there, nothing good is there). Kuzy squeezes him quick, but doesn’t say anything else. They watch the team-- Ovi is talking with his hands now, Nicky looks murderous (but when doesn’t he?) even as he’s toe to toe with Ovi very firmly and loudly repeating “You can not ride it”, and Carly is getting a piggyback ride from Nisky as they lead half of the team out of the locker room. Jakub pokes Kuzy in the ribs and jerks his head towards the door. If they’re going off on their own, now is the time to make a break for it. 

They don’t really talk as they head out, just jostle each other when they see something ridiculous (that’s a mechanical bull in the lobby, that is not a normal thing to see at an arena). Once they’re clear of the arena and the people still lingering around, Jakub stops and finds an out of the way spot for the next part of this tradition. Hands on Kuzy’s shoulders, he spins him around until there’s no way he knows which way is which-- and then a little more, just to be certain. Kuzy’s arm swings out and points down a side street. They’ll walk until they see an appealing restaurant. It gives them a chance to poke around the cities they travel to-- and a good way to ensure that they don’t run into their teammates. Jakub likes them all, loves spending time with them, but there comes a point in every road trip where he will cheerfully contemplate running away to like Ottawa or some other team that is not so fucking loud. 

They wind up in a steakhouse, filled with a decent amount of people and chatter, but still significantly quieter than wherever Nicky has decided the rest of them will go. Jakub nudges Kuzy as they get seated and gestures at the mix of people around them-- perfect for people watching, and perfect for inventing life stories for. It’s Kuzy’s favorite way to kill time when they’re out. They’ll make a game out it--- whoever comes up with the best story doesn’t have to buy. Jakub is ready for a rematch-- he’s lost the last three times, but he’s convinced that the group of five thirty-somethings two tables away will give him something to beat Kuzy with. There’s too much glaring and pointed drinking of wine and cocktails for there not to be a veritable goldmine of tension and artistic fodder. Kuzy laughs at him, nods his head towards the table of four women that look to be in their twenties one table over and one down from their table. And ok, he gets that there’s probably a really good story behind why a brunette woman is being threatened with what looks like some sort of greeting card, but Jakub has faith in his table. 

“She is actually…,” something something in Russian that probably doesn’t actually mean busybody and Kuzy wiggles his eyebrows before he continues with words Jakub can actually translate, “... father’s wife disinherits…. company spy… card is for wedding to spy.” 

“I don’t think she’s being disinherited for corporate espionage, she probably just picked a rude birthday card,” and Kuzy just rolls his eyes, like he fundamentally disagrees with the ten words that probably made sense, but let’s Jakub continue “Now my table, I’m pretty sure that the one in orange is sleeping with someone they shouldn’t and now they’re all stuck together because the woman in green is their sister and the cheater’s friend and they’re celebrating and pretending that they didn’t burn each other’s stuff on the lawn last night. Or they’re house hunting and realizing that the other has shit taste, like they never do on House Hunters.” 

Kuzy rolls his eyes, gestures discreetly at the way the people he’s pointed out as being on the verge of splitting are playing footsie and sharing food now. Jakub looks over at Kuzy’s table and hopes they’re doing something to discredit the whole “she’s marrying a spy for the rival of the family company and being disinherited” narrative that Jakub is fairly sure Kuzy actually is borrowing from Days of Our Lives. (He’s pretty sure that was actually the episode playing in Winnipeg two days ago when they took their naps. It seems familiar and Kuzy isn’t normally so dramatic in his stories, tries to go for believable because then he’s less likely to have to explain away anything that happens after, like that one time Jakub had thought someone had been about to propose but really they’d been sewing up a torn dress.) They aren’t, unless those heated whispers are about who gets the last crostini. Jakub sighs. 

“One day you’ll be good as me,” Kuzy tells him with the most over the top old guy attitude, “make all the kids buy you dinners, once I’m gone and you get to be the vet.” 

“Nah old man, you’ll just make rookies and me buy you dinners.” It’s too strange to think about a time when Kuzy might not be around and Jakub will be one of the vets. It’s easier to accept the idea of the sun being like purple or something equally as strange. Jakub has never known the Caps without Kuzy. (Or Nicky or Ovi or Carly-- really, there’s a handful of other guys that have always been there, the bedrock that makes them into the Caps-- or at least the Caps that Jakub knows. But his chest doesn’t ache at the thought of Ovi not being with the Caps, not for Nicky or Carly. Just at the idea that there will be a day that Kuzy won’t be here with him, guiding him on the ice and off of it. He hates it). 

“Hey, hey, no sad faces,” Kuzy tells him as he brandishes one of his steak frites at Jakub, “retirement is not death. I’ll be around.”

The words are familiar, even in English. Because Kuzy isn’t the first to say them. And Jakub himself has heard so many older guys say that over the years, and maybe some of them even mean it. But, two or three years down the road they all fade away, don’t keep in touch or just can never make the time now for old teammates now that they aren’t caught up in the tight schedule of professional hockey. 

“For a bit,” and he scowls down at his chicken and wonders how they even got on this fucking topic. They’d won, he didn’t have to share Kuzy with anyone, and the food was really good and now Kuzy leaving was all he could think about. 

“For as long as you want, can’t leave my rookie sad,” Kuzy promises him, shit-eating grin firmly in place. 

“Thought you weren’t my mentor,” Jakub retorts, because holy shit Kuzy has insisted till he’s blue in the face that he isn’t (even though everyone else agrees he is, even Trotz). He kind of wishes he’d been recording this, to have proof of Kuzy admitting that Jakub was his rookie. 

“I’m not. You’re still my rookie,” Kuzy tells him, like that makes any sense.

“So what, you just gonna hang out in D.C. till I retire?,” Jakub snorts. Kuzy rolls his eyes at him, seems to understand the sentiment even if Jakub is pretty sure that he mumbled. 

“You young, I’m young,” and he glares at Jakub for laughing at that, because Kuzy is young for people but getting old for hockey, “we retire together. In a million years.” 

“In a million years,” Jakub agrees, and holds up his glass for a toast. Kuzy toasts him, and they move on to other subjects (the Stars and that turnover, restaurants to try in D.C., whether or not Ovi actually managed to get a ride on the mechanical bull), but Jakub doesn’t forget about what they talked about. In his hotel room that night, he thinks about-- him and Kuzy and retiring together, playing together for that long. He’s seen Ovi and Backy do it, but they’re Ovi and Backy. They routinely do shit that Jakub can only dream of. He’d like to try though, like to play with Kuzy and win with Kuzy-- not just games, but the cup. And if he’s dreaming, he might as well admit that he’s dreaming of multiple cups, of building a dynasty and doing it with Kuzy every step of the way. He thinks that if he told Kuzy that, Kuzy would tell him to dream bigger-- back to back cups and knocking the penguins out every single time. He’ll tell him in the morning, see if he’s right. At the very least, it’ll give them something to talk about on the flight.


End file.
